. . . it's complicated . . .

north (father)

we went north
where the whaling ships
once hunted – found them
rotting like beached leviathans
and on the shore
rocks and caribou antlers
great spikes seaweed draped
the blue grey background
inviting only to the brave
who would venture out
between the droplet islands
your wake watched
by black eyed monsters
and banshee winds in
howling caves

I never knew my father
his soul was cast adrift
when I was a child
but out there
and up here
I can still feel the roughness
of his hand
in mine
when I close my own
black eyes

Thanks. Yes I enjoyed writing this one and going in a different direction. However, I feel the shepherdess might be lurking over a desolate hillside and I might be tempted to go look for her 😉 Oh dear, some days I really think I must be bonkers!!

Thanks again. I was inspired by some photos I saw which sent my mind wandering to a desolate and harsh place somewhere in the north – wherever that might be. I’m thinking of wrapping up this little saga with one more poem so watch this space 😉